


Ni Partayli, Gar Darasuum

by Starofwinter



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Canonical Character Death, GFY, Gen, Post-Umbara, Waxer/Boil (mentioned) - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 17:55:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7116628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starofwinter/pseuds/Starofwinter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ni Partayli, Gar Darasuum

**Author's Note:**

> My contribution to Clone Appreciation Day.

“Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum.”  Rex’s voice rings out first in the silence of the barracks.   The Remembrance.  Each of them says their own version of it every night, but after a battle - especially the kind of battle they’d seen today, with losses that hit every one of them - they said it together.  Umbara had all but destroyed them, left them reeling and lost, but this was familiar, a touchstone to ground their pain and let them mourn.

Jesse’s voice joins in next, taking a deep breath to steel himself against the fresh pain.  “Hardcase.”  Fuck, he’s going to miss his batch brother with every beat of his heart for the rest of his life.

Cody speaks up next.  “Waxer.”  It should have been him.  He never should have asked Waxer to take command for that mission, not with the feeling that had raised the hair on the back of his neck.  

Other brothers join in, each of them saying the names of the brothers they’d fought alongside, who’d watched their backs and shared their lives, in the calm, steady tones of veterans, well-experienced in this kind of pain, the shaken voices of kids barely old enough to leave Kamino, or Boil’s half-choked sob.  They’ve all lost someone today, and it unites them in their grief, from the shinies in their first fight to men who wear scars like medals, witnesses to countless battles.

Their brothers might be marching far away, but they live on, carried in their hearts forever.  


End file.
